06-23-2017, 06:32 PM
(This post was last modified: 06-23-2017, 06:35 PM by Simon.
Edit Reason: I FORGOT TO MOVE FUCK ME RIGHT IN THE STUPID FACE
)
Turns out there was one advantage to rolling solo for a little bit: nobody to object to stealing a car.
Not that Dante had even hot-wired a car before. He never learned how. At least, he had never needed to know before this point. Riding in a vehicle was better than stomping through this disgusting amount of rain. Rather than look up his suspect topic on the Dataverse and end up on an investigation list or two, Tony Redgrave decided to just root through the different vehicles in hopes in finding a spare key.
After breaking into four cars and setting off three of them, the devil hunter conceded that looking up how to hot-wire a car was probably a more intelligent solution. So he did, entering the topic into a search engine and getting results within the minute, all to the tune of three different alarms.
Anyone who knew Dante would agree that he was generally very good at his job and rather incompetent at most anything else. The proof of that was currently being broadcast across the various news networks of the Omniverse.
Finally, after a bit more struggling, the Son of Sparda had himself a working automobile, quickly peeling away from the scene of his crimes. The vintage sedan, kept sleek and well-oiled in the time before its owner's disappearance, made a passable pace down the road. Tony fiddled with the radio a bit, but only got static on the few channels he scrolled through. Oh well, no big deal.
Said haven was hard to miss: one of the large office building in the heart of downtown, and the only one with any working lights whatsoever. Tony remembered looking over it once or twice during the night, and could see it's shape coming into view as he cruised triumphantly. This old car rumbled and moved like a great war hound, and the redcoat felt that at a pace like this, he would reach the safe house in no time.
Sure enough, it came into view as the sedan streaked around a corner, suspension creaking and tires skidding on the asphalt painfully. Redgrave pressed on, confident he would ride this old train right up to the gates. The current street ended in a T-section, with concrete barriers the only thing between himself and safety. The destination in reach, Tony pressed his foot onto the brake pedal.
It didn't take. The pads clenched up, the wheels were definitely stopped, but a severe lack of traction carried the car's screeching momentum down the slippery road. Confused and annoyed, Tony removed his boot from the pedal and slammed back into it. The sudden seizure of the brakes instead caused the sedan to skid completely out of control. He jerked at the steering wheel, trying to at least pull himself away from the oncoming obstacle, but it refused to take him anywhere away from the incoming wall.
Tony was only a moment away from popping open the door when the face of the sedan met the wall, and his head met the shattering windshield.
Not that Dante had even hot-wired a car before. He never learned how. At least, he had never needed to know before this point. Riding in a vehicle was better than stomping through this disgusting amount of rain. Rather than look up his suspect topic on the Dataverse and end up on an investigation list or two, Tony Redgrave decided to just root through the different vehicles in hopes in finding a spare key.
After breaking into four cars and setting off three of them, the devil hunter conceded that looking up how to hot-wire a car was probably a more intelligent solution. So he did, entering the topic into a search engine and getting results within the minute, all to the tune of three different alarms.
Anyone who knew Dante would agree that he was generally very good at his job and rather incompetent at most anything else. The proof of that was currently being broadcast across the various news networks of the Omniverse.
Finally, after a bit more struggling, the Son of Sparda had himself a working automobile, quickly peeling away from the scene of his crimes. The vintage sedan, kept sleek and well-oiled in the time before its owner's disappearance, made a passable pace down the road. Tony fiddled with the radio a bit, but only got static on the few channels he scrolled through. Oh well, no big deal.
Said haven was hard to miss: one of the large office building in the heart of downtown, and the only one with any working lights whatsoever. Tony remembered looking over it once or twice during the night, and could see it's shape coming into view as he cruised triumphantly. This old car rumbled and moved like a great war hound, and the redcoat felt that at a pace like this, he would reach the safe house in no time.
Sure enough, it came into view as the sedan streaked around a corner, suspension creaking and tires skidding on the asphalt painfully. Redgrave pressed on, confident he would ride this old train right up to the gates. The current street ended in a T-section, with concrete barriers the only thing between himself and safety. The destination in reach, Tony pressed his foot onto the brake pedal.
It didn't take. The pads clenched up, the wheels were definitely stopped, but a severe lack of traction carried the car's screeching momentum down the slippery road. Confused and annoyed, Tony removed his boot from the pedal and slammed back into it. The sudden seizure of the brakes instead caused the sedan to skid completely out of control. He jerked at the steering wheel, trying to at least pull himself away from the oncoming obstacle, but it refused to take him anywhere away from the incoming wall.
Tony was only a moment away from popping open the door when the face of the sedan met the wall, and his head met the shattering windshield.
Quote:Dante moving from C17 to C21.